


Take My Hand, Let's Begin

by totalnovaktrash



Series: Stars and Ourselves [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous Villain Backstory, And i hate him, Arthur isn't a bad person, Arthur will be pissed, Character Insert, Episode: s01e01 Dragon's Call, Episode: s01e02 Valiant, Gen, I promise Freya still exists, Isabene is the Lady of the Lake, Merlin's trying his best he swears, Original Character(s), Rewrite, Season/Series 01, That Little Voice in Arthur's Head, Uther Pendragon is An Asshole, Uther is a manipulative shit, almost as much as I hate the stupid dragon, don't hurt Isabene, he's just not used to dealing people who don't give him special treatment, i guess, is that really not a tag yet?, like Merlin, omg Isabene just teach the poor boy telepathy, she's just different, what's the point, why the fuck is Valiant even here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2020-01-25 13:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18575290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totalnovaktrash/pseuds/totalnovaktrash
Summary: “Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone's hand is the beginning of a journey.At other times, it is allowing another to take yours.”―Vera NazarianIt's been thirteen years since the Kingdom of Deira was destroyed and when Princess Isabene Rhian meets Merlin, she starts to understand why a powerful warlock like Emrys would need a protector.





	1. Yet, He Called Him Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to my Discord Darlings— Lils and Babs especially for being so helpful. I love you both— as well as everyone on Tumblr who put up with my inane posts while writing this.

Hundreds of years ago, the world was a very different place, and not just in the ways that one would assume. It was a world of dragons and prophecy, a land of myth, a time of magic. It was a world where legends were born and one day, about fifteen hundred years ago, part of one was. In the citadel of the kingdom of Deira— not far from modern-day York— a child was born to King Evrain and Queen Sebille Rhian. The child, Isabene, seemed a normal infant in all respects save for her brilliant golden eyes.

A few years later a missive arrived from the Kingdom of Camelot containing an ultimatum. Join King Uther’s tirade against magic users or sever ties with Camelot completely. Evrain was, until that day, a close friend of Uther Pendragon, but choosing to decline the offer to join his quest for revenge was a choice that was simply out of his hands. He could only hope that word hadn’t reached Camelot that the eldest princess was unconsciously practicing magic at the age of two.

Uther’s decision to outlaw magic in Camelot did what it was meant to do. It distanced the King from his role in the death of the late Queen Igraine but also served to make the King— and by association, the young Prince Arthur— significantly less popular among certain circles in the Kingdoms. The High Priestesses of the Old Religion certainly counted themselves as part of those circles and one of them took it upon herself to rid Camelot of her tyrant King.

Attack after attack only succeeded in the Priestesses allies being executed by the Pendragons until finally, the Priestess sought an ally Uther could not easily ignore. She went to Deira and demanded King Evrain’s support. When he refused, the Priestess unleashed a curse on his kingdom. Within days, the only survivors were a handful of citizens and the ten-year-old Princess Isabene.

Weeks later, all of Camelot held their breath as a contingent of Deiran knights entered the kingdom for the first time in over a decade. The Knights stood before the King with young Isabene and told Uther of the fall of Deira and the death of the royal family and begged him to take in the Princess. Uther saw his chance to make an example out of Deira and showcase the dangers of allowing magic to run rampant in a kingdom. He agreed to let Isabene stay.

The ‘knights’ slipped out of Camelot that night, content that the Princess was safe. Surely the Priestess would not look for the survivors here. Isabene was an intelligent child, she could keep herself safe, even in Uther’s Camelot. And they were right, Isabene was an expert at keeping out of trouble. At least until the day of the execution of a man named Thomas.

Isabene hated having to watch executions from a balcony as if her ability to hide in plain sight put her above everyone else. She had slipped out of her rooms early in the morning and spent most of the day avoiding half of Camelot proper. After thirteen years in Camelot, she knew that either Uther or Morgana was going to go looking for her after their inevitable argument. She also knew who would tell them where she was hiding and who would keep quiet if she asked.

She stood in the crowd, eyes trained on the executioner, tugging nervously at the hem of her shirt. King Uther Pendragon stood above the crowd on the balcony to address his people. “Let this serve as a lesson to all. This man is adjudged guilty of conspiring to use enchantments and magic. And, pursuant to the laws of Camelot, I, Uther Pendragon, have decreed that such practices are banned on penalty of death. I pride myself as a fair and just king, but for the crime of sorcery, there is but one sentence I can pass.”

Uther raised his arm, then lowered it as a signal to the executioner. Isabene forced herself to watch as Thomas was beheaded. _This is the punishment that awaits you if anyone catches you stepping out of line,_ she told herself. _Leon nearly spotted you practicing, you can’t make those kinds of mistakes anymore._

“When I took the throne, this kingdom was mired in chaos, but with the people's help magic was driven from the realm. So I declare a festival to celebrate twenty years since the Great Dragon was captured and Camelot freed from the evil of sorcery. Let the celebrations begin!”

An elderly woman in the crowd wailed. “There is only one evil in this land, and it is not magic! It is you! With your hatred and your ignorance! You took my son and I promise you, before these celebrations are over, you will share my tears! An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a _son_ for a _son_!”

Isabene placed her hand on the hilt of the knife she kept hidden. _Nobody threatens Arthur without getting in trouble._

“Seize her!” Uther ordered.

The woman began to chant a spell and disappeared in a whirlwind of smoke. The air was tense, but the crowd began to disperse and Isabene let herself be carried along. She started back towards the lower town where she could hide for a few more hours, but someone caught her eye. A dark-haired boy with a red neckerchief was weaving his way through the people. He seemed lost.

And interesting. Something about the boy drew her in. Isabene followed him.

The boy stopped once he reached the guards at the palace entrance to ask directions. The guards pointed him in the direction of Gaius’ chambers. Isabene remembered Gaius mentioning a boy on his way from one of the border villages. She pressed her ear against the door trying to hear their conversation. When she couldn’t hear anything, she whispered an incantation.

Gaius’s voice came clear through the door. “I know what it was! I just want to know where you learned how to do it!”

“Nowhere,” a younger voice insisted.

“So how is it you know magic?”

“I don't.”

“Where did you study?” Gaius demanded. When the boy didn’t respond. “Answer me!”

“I-I've never studied magic or, or been taught,” the boy claimed.

 _A warlock, then?_ Isabene thought. _What was he thinking, coming here?_

“Are you lying to me, boy?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth!”

“I was born like this!”

“That's impossible! Who are you?”

“Oh, erm…” There was rustling like the kid was taking off his pack. “I have this letter.”

“I- I don't have my glasses.”

“I'm Merlin,” the boy said.

Gaius seemed to recognize the name. “Hunith's son?”

“Yes!”

“But you're not meant to be here till Wednesday!”

“It is Wednesday.”

“Ah, right then. You better put your bag in there.”

Merlin hesitated. “You- you won't say anything about, erm…”

“No. Although, Merlin, I should say thank you.”

Isabene steeled herself and knocked on the door. “Gaius?” she called out and stepped back as the old man opened the door. “I need those bandages for Mino. You have some left?”

Gaius nodded. “Of course. Come in, Your Highness.”

She followed him in with a forced smile. “Hardly a princess without a kingdom, Gaius.”

“You’re a princess?” Merlin asked.

“Princess Isabene of the Kingdom of Deira,” Gaius told him.

Merlin was a few inches taller than Isabene and looked maybe four or five years younger. He was skinnier than a stick, which was unsurprising. Isabene glanced at his face and nearly choked. He had a glamour on his eyes, they were bright gold.

_He really is just like me._

Isabene took a deep breath to clear her head and rolled her eyes at the physician. “Honestly, Gaius. There’s no need for me to be the Deiran princess anymore. Hasn’t been for a while.”

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said quietly. “I’m Merlin.”

He offered her his hand. She stared at it a moment before accepting. “Isabene, a pleasure to meet you.”

Gaius handed her a handful of cloth bandages. “What did Mino do this time?”

Isabene laughed. “Ah, who knows. I’m starting to think she’s going on adventures without me..”

“Who’s Mino?” Merlin asked

“My familiar.”

“Isabene, that is hardly appropriate,” Gaius said.

“Why? Because a witch slaughtered my people and my family? Or because of the magic ban here in lovely Camelot?” At a disapproving look from the physician, Isabene sighed. “Gaius, it’s a _joke_. It’s not like I’m running around in front of the knights insulting the King. Really, you need to stop worrying so much. I hear it’s bad for your health.” She smiled at Merlin. “I’ll see you around then, Merlin.”

As she walked out and headed back to her quarters, Isabene smiled to herself. She was going to have to talk to this young warlock sometime.

That night, Isabene heard a voice she hadn’t heard since her first day after arriving in Camelot.

“ _Merlin… Merlin…”_

* * *

 

“Where’s the target?” Arthur called.

His useless servant gripped the basket he was holding tighter. “There, Sir?”

Edric, Owain, and Geraint stood nearby snickering. “It’s into the sun.”

“But it’s not that bright,” Morris protested.

Arthur grinned. “A bit like you then?” The other knights howled with laughter. Morris muttered something about moving it and picked up the target. “This’ll teach him,” the prince said to his friends and threw one of his daggers at the target.

“Hey, hang on!” the servant protested.  

“Don’t stop!” he shouted at the boy. “I told you to keep moving!” Morris hefted the target back up in time to block another dagger.  “Come on! Run! We want some moving target practice!”

The other knights cheered him on as he continued to throw knives while Morris ran back and forth with the target. After a few hits, the oaf tripped and the target went rolling off, eventually falling at the feet of a commoner.

“Hey,” the commoner called. Arthur turned away from the other knights. “Come on, that’s enough.”

“What?”

“You’ve had your fun, my friend.” The boy was scrawny and plain. His clothes were worn and he wore a faded red neckerchief. He was a peasant, someone Arthur wouldn’t have given the slightest bit of attention to any other day.

But he had spoken up and something about him was drawing Arthur in. “Do I know you?”

“I’m Merlin,” the boy said, offering Arthur his hand.

 _Take the offer,_ whispered a voice in Arthur’s head that sounded unsettlingly like Isabene. _He’s more than he seems. You want him as your ally._ Habit overruled this instinct, though. The other knights were watching. “So I don’t know you.”

“No.”

“Yet, you called me _friend_.”

Merlin paused for a moment before responding, “That was my mistake.”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Yeah, I’d never have a friend who could be such an ass.”

 _Who the hell does this idiot think he is_ , Arthur marveled as the boy turned to start walking away. Not wanting to be outdone, he called after him. “Or I one who could be so stupid. Tell me, _Mer_ lin, do you know how to walk on your knees?”

“No.”

“Would you like me to help you?”

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” Merlin wasn’t backing down. Arthur was unsure if he was annoyed or impressed with the guts this commoner was showing.

Not one to be outdone, Arthur stepped back and opened his arms. “Why? What are you going to do to me? Come on!” he goaded. “Come on!” The moron actually took a swing at him. Guts, but no skill. Arthur was almost disappointed at how easy it was to twist Merlin’s arm behind his back. “I’ll have you thrown in jail for that.”

“Who do you think you are, the King?”

“No. I’m his son, Arthur.”

* * *

As a rule, Isabene tried to avoid formal events as much as possible. There was something about the pretentious clothing and the gaudy jewels and the forced politeness that made her stomach tie itself in knots. To be a noble in Camelot was to be lying constantly, to peers and strangers alike. Isabene hated pretending to be something she wasn’t.

Being Uther’s less favored ward, she was able to get away with being absent from many events. Fortunately, the arrival of the Lady Helen was one such event. Unfortunately, Arthur wasn’t required to attend either and had elected to spend the time complaining to Isabene about someone who had bothered him earlier in the day.

“Can you believe the nerve—”

“Why do you care so much, Arthur?” she asked.

Arthur glared at her. “I don’t. I _don’t_ care at all.”

“Yes, it certainly sounds like you don’t care. You’re just upset that there’s someone in the Kingdom who isn’t in complete and utter awe of the mighty Prince,” Isabene mocked. “Can you _imagine_ someone seeing Arthur throwing daggers at his manservant again and thinking, _huh maybe that’s not the best idea_.”

“It’s not like I was going to miss!”

“If he didn’t know who you were on sight, I doubt he would’ve known about much about your accuracy,” she pointed out.

Arthur opened his mouth to retort. Unable to think of a response, he scowled. “What kind of a stupid name is _Merlin_ anyway?”

Isabene frowned. “You put Gaius’ apprentice in the cells for pissing you off?”

“No, I put him in the cells for _attacking_ me.”

“Did he land a punch?”

“Of course not,” Arthur sniffed.

“Shame.”

_“Merlin… Merlin…”_

Isabene jumped at the sound of the voice and spun around. Arthur looked at her worriedly. “Isabene, are you alright?”

Why was _he_ finally speaking now? Why was he calling Merlin? What was going on?

“Fine,” she mumbled, then shook her head. “Seriously, though. I’d suggest talking to Gaius. Merlin may be annoying, but do you really think he deserves the Eyebrows of Disappointment he’s going to get for disappearing?”

She didn’t wait for Arthur’s response before setting off towards the dungeons.

Isabene tried not to think too much about her life prior to Camelot and even less about the early days of living in the Citadel, but nothing could make her forget about the night she heard a man’s voice whispering her name in her mind. If he was calling to Merlin…

She whispered a druidic notice-me-not incantation to slip past the guards and lit a ball of fire in her hand once she was a ways down the dungeon tunnel. The first time she had walked this path she had been ten years old and frighted. The dragon at the end of the tunnel had informed her of Emrys, the Once and Future King, and Prophecy of Avalon.

He called her Freya, a name that meant nothing to her, and spoke of a destiny protecting the Once and Future King and the Warlock Emrys. It was her duty as the Lady of the Lake, the Advocate of Avalon. Isabene returned to the dragon’s cave night after night, asking questions about destiny and prophecy and what the creature expected her to do. She asked who exactly she was supposed to be protecting.

The dragon never answered.

The cave appeared to be empty when Isabene arrived, but she knew the dragon was simply avoiding her. “It’s been thirteen years. Am I going to get an answer or are you going to continue to ignore me?” she shouted into the void.

The dragon did not respond.

“Fine then, you can continue to be an ass! Just leave Merlin out of your bullshit!”

There was a loud _whoosh_ of air as the dragon flew to the perch across from the entrance to the cave. “And why should I do that, Freya?”

Isabene scowled. “You don’t get to pull every innocent magic user that comes to the city proper into your conspiracy.”

“How protective you are of a boy who is nothing but a stranger to you.”

“He’s an idiot warlock living in Camelot! He got arrested for getting in Arthur’s face about mistreating staff! He’s going to need my help and that starts with you leaving him alone. He’s barely going to make it through the week with his own problems, he doesn’t need you blathering to him about responsibility and the Prophecy of Avalon.” Something occurred to Isabene. “Unless… Merlin is Emrys?”

“Merlin has his own destiny, as you have yours.”

“Yes, but is his destiny to protect the Once and Future King in his mission to unite Albion?” Unsurprisingly, the dragon refused to answer. Isabene glared at him. Of course he wouldn’t answer, she fumed. Why after over a decade of being stubborn would the bloody lizard suddenly decide to give her answers? “No? Then _leave him alone_.” She spun on her heel and stormed out of the cave.

* * *

“You really didn’t need to come down here with me, Isabene,” Gwen said for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Isabene laughed. No matter how many times she assured her that she’d be wandering the lower town with or without her, Gwen always protested Isabene joining her on trips through the market.

“Morgana isn’t allowed without express permission,” Gwen reminded her.

“And this is one of the benefits of not having Uther’s favor, isn’t it? No one cares if I _embarrass_ myself _galavanting_ around the lower town with _commoners_.” Isabene rolled her eyes. “Besides, Arthur is in a mood today so this is better than the alternative. Sometimes I have to wonder about Pendragon men.”

“About _all_ men.”

The princess hummed in agreement, her attention drifting to the commotion by the stocks. “That poor soul. Think there will be a tomato left for me to throw?”

Gwen shook her head. “You are terrible. It’s probably that boy that stood up for Morris yesterday.”

Isabene snorted. “Maybe getting pelted with vegetables will teach Merlin a lesson. Besides, Morris needs to learn to stand up for himself or Arthur’s going to work him to death out of boredom one day.”

“You know him?”

“Morris? I certainly hope so. He’s lasted the longest.”

Gwen glared at her. “The boy. Merlin?”

“Oh, sure. He’s Gaius’ new apprentice.” The crowd around the stocks picked up their baskets and dispersed, likely to find more ammunition. The unlucky chained up idiot was, in fact, Merlin. Isabene grinned and dragged Gwen closer.

Merlin looked up as they approached, putting on a smile. “The Lady Isabene. A pleasure to see you again.”

“Yes, I’m sure you would’ve come to say hello sooner had you not been _tied up_.”

“Mm, very funny. I’m laughing so hard, I’ve doubled over.” He looked over at Gwen. “Hello!”

“Hello!” Gwen laughed. “I’m Guinevere, but most people call me Gwen. I’m the Lady Morgana’s maid.”

“Right, I’m Merlin.” He reached his hand further out of the stocks to shake hers. “Though most people just call me Idiot.”

Gwen was quick to reassure him. “No, no, no. I saw what you did. It was so brave.”

“It was stupid,” he corrected her.

“Well, I’m glad you walked away. You weren’t going to beat him.”

“Oh, I— I could beat him,” he insisted. Isabene snickered. Merlin shot her a look.

“You think? because you don't look like one of these big, muscle-y kind of fellows.”

“Thanks,” Merlin snorted.

“No! No, I'm sure you're stronger than you look. It's just, erm... Arthur's one of these real rough, tough, save the world kind of men, and... well… Isabene please say something so I stop talking.”

Merlin turned his attention back to Isabene, who shrugged. “Merlin, Arthur can beat _me_ in a fight.”

“And I’m sure you’re a master swordswoman.”

She crossed her arm. “That I am. Excuse us if we don’t think you can take on a knight of the realm. Not many people could.”

Merlin motioned for them to move closer. “I'm in disguise.”

Gwen laughed. “Well, it's great you stood up to him.”

“You think so?”

“Lots of people do,” Isabene agreed. “Arthur’s a bully, Merlin.”

“And everyone thought you were a real hero,” the maidservant added.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Definitely.”

The children returned with more rotting fruit. “Oh, excuse me, Guinevere, Isabene. My fans are waiting.”

The two girls fled before they could be caught in the crossfire. Gwen had to return to the castle to complete her chores while Isabene chose to wander the market for a while longer.

* * *

It took considerable effort, but Arthur managed to slip away from the guards his father had assigned to watch him. He wasn’t exactly supposed to be in the lower town without someone with him. It was a ridiculous and arbitrary rule of his father’s, Arthur envied Isabene’s ability to sneak around the city unpunished.

He was correct in assuming he would find her alone in the market. She was examining a rather intricate looking dagger when someone snuck up behind her. “I know you’re not supposed to be here,” he said.

Isabene whirled around and grabbed him, shoving him into the table and pressing the tip of the dagger against his back. “And I’m fairly sure you’re supposed to have an escort, lest you be attacked by some lowtown rabble.”

“What are you going to do?” Arthur asked. “Tell my father?”

She let him go, bending to pick up the wares she and Arthur had knocked off the merchant’s table. “I thought you weren’t going to try escaping from Sergei again.”

“I’m not, it’s impossible and he’s obviously a sorcerer.”

“Of course,” she allowed. “That’s why Uther assigns him to watch you all the time.”

“How do you know it was Sergei and not Leon?”

“Because you’ve decided that my company was worth trying to escape.” Isabene poked him in the side. “Admit it, you don’t know how to handle people who aren’t suck-ups.”

Arthur scoffed. “Please. I can handle anything.”

“Of course. That’s why I saw Merlin in the stocks, yes?”

“I figured it was a more fitting punishment than imprisonment. Gaius seemed to enjoy the idea, at any rate.”

“And I’m sure you stopped by the stocks to chuck rotten food at his face.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m the Prince, such things are beneath me,” Arthur sniffed. “Besides, he’d already been let out by the time I got there. Maybe next time.”

“Next time?” she repeated. “You planning on putting him back in there?”

Did he have any immediate plans? No. But just thinking about the boy evoked something Arthur could only assume was irritation. What kind of moron tries to hit the Prince? “You’ve spoken to him. Tell me, do you honestly believe he’s the sort to learn his lesson?”

Isabene frowned. “No,” she admitted. “No, I do not.”

Arthur glanced at her as they continued through the market. “What have you been up to down here anyway?”

“Avoiding you.”

“Funny way of avoiding someone,” he said, “being exactly where they’d expect you to be. If you didn’t want to be found, you should’ve asked Morgana to take you dress shopping.”

“She’d have died of shock on the spot. Can you imagine?” Isabene snorted. “Maybe I should’ve, just to see the look on her face. But no, I’m avoiding Morgana as well. You know how she can get after executions. Especially ones like Thomas’s.”

He couldn’t help but notice her use of the dead man’s name. Isabene spent so much time with the common people, Arthur had to wonder if she knew him personally. He wouldn’t be surprised if she did, she seemed to be on a first name basis with the entire kingdom. “Were you watching?” he asked.

“I always watch,” she said. Arthur watched her expression turn dark. She would never admit it, but he knew the executions always affected her as much as they did Morgana, if in different ways. He remembered the first time she had found out one of them had been like Thomas— a healer, using sorcery to help the sick. She had locked herself in her rooms for days before speaking to anyone again.

He remembered with equal clarity the last time the victim on the chopping block had been a hostile sorcerer. She had been _furious_ at the man, raged about him ‘proving Uther’s propaganda’. A chill had gone down Arthur’s spine when she said in complete seriousness that she wished the King had burned him at the stake.

“You bought something, right?”

Isabene frowned at the sudden change of subject. “What?”

“You bought something, right?” he repeated. “Word on the street is that someone’s twenty-first birthday is soon. You’ve bought him a gift, haven’t you? What’d you get him?”

“Who said I got him anything?” she responded coyly, happy to fall back into familiar banter.

“Well, it’s not every day someone turns twnety-one and becomes the crown prince of a kingdom you know.”

“What could a crown prince possibly want that he doesn’t already have?” Isabene countered. “Besides, if I _did_ get him anything, I certainly wouldn’t tell _you_. You can’t keep a secret for your life.”

Arthur spluttered. “I… I can keep a secret!”

“Morgana’s seventeenth birthday gift.”

“That was one time. When are you going to let that go?”

“Swiping apple pie from the kitchens.”

“Cook is scary when she’s angry. You’ve said so yourself.”

“Sneaking out after curfew to the forest for the lizard races.”

“I was ten years old,” Arthur protested, “that’s not fair!”

Isabene snickered. “Just admit it, Arthur. No one should be trusting you with secrets.”

He scowled at her, and his the scowl deepened when he heard a familiar shout of, “Hey, Princeling!” and spotted Sergei coming towards them with Owain and Edric in tow. “Lost you there for a bit.”

“Sorry, Sergei,” Arthur lied through his teeth. “I spotted Isabene and came to chat with her.”

“Lady Isabene! You’re not supposed to be here alone either.”

“‘I’m not alone,” she said, “I’ve got Arthur.”

The guard laughed. “Good point. Either way, I’ve got to take you both back to the castle.” He didn’t even wait for agreement before started back down the road.

Arthur pointed at the back of Sergei’s head and twirled his finger around his temple. “I’m telling you, there’s something off about him,” he said to Isabene under his breath.

“He’s nice to people and he’s not bitter,” she corrected him. “It’s refreshing.”

The prince rolled his eyes and sped up to pass the guards and complain to Owain and Edric instead. It didn’t last very long as only moments later he spotted Merlin walking in the opposite direction. Arthur lit up. “How’s your knee-walking coming along?”

Isabene elbowed him sharply and Merlin simply kept walking. Not one to be deterred, Arthur tried again. “Aw, don’t run away.”

Merlin stopped walking. “From you?”

“Ah, thank god,” Arthur said, shooting Isabene and _I told you so_ look. “I thought you were deaf as well as dumb.”

“Look, I’ve told you that you’re an ass I just didn’t realize you were a royal one,” Merlin said. Arthur looked back at the others incredulously. “Oh, what are you going to do? Get your daddy’s men to protect you?”

The prince laughed. “I could take you apart with one blow.”

“I could take you apart with less than that,” Merlin retorted.

“Are you sure?”

Merlin actually took off his jacket. Arthur couldn’t miss the glare Isabene gave him as he took the flail from Edric and tossed it to Merlin. “Here you go, big man.” He swung his own weapon. “I warn you, I’ve been trained to kill since birth.”

“Wow, and how long have you been training to be a prat?”

 _What?_ “You can’t address me like that.”

“I’m sorry. How long have you been training to be a prat,” Merlin bowed and looked back up at Arthur impishly, “ _My Lord?_ ”

Isabene’s assertion of ‘ _you don’t know how to handle people who aren’t suck-ups_ ’ flickered through his mind and for a split second Arthur considered backing down out of respect for the amount of guts it must’ve taken for Merlin to say that out loud. But then Merlin smirked at him and Arthur swung the flail.

“Come on then, _Mer_ lin! Come on!” Arthur shouted, swinging his weapon and backing Merlin against one of the stalls. Dodging seemed to be working well for the boy until he tripped and fell back onto a pile of sacks dropping his flail. Arthur vaulted over a table to stand over him. “You’re in trouble now.”

Arthur swung the flail around again and the weapon tangled itself in two nearby hooks. Merlin used the distraction to get to his feet. On the next attack, Arthur banged his shin against a box. He tried lunging at Merlin again but tripped over a rope and face planted into a sack, his flail flying out of his hand.

 _Of all the times for bad luck to strike,_ Arthur thought to himself furiously. He pushed himself up to find that Merlin had grabbed his flail. “Do you want to give up?” the boy demanded.

Arthur backed away. “To you?”

“Do you? Do you want to give up?”

The prince’s foot caught in a bucket and he went sprawling backward. Arthur managed to catch himself before hitting his head. Above him, Merlin was distracted by someone in the crowd. Arthur took the chance to grab the broom that was nearby. He got up onto his knees to whack Merlin in the back. Merlin spun around giving Arthur the chance to hit him in the stomach, then over the head.

Sergei and another guard pulled Merlin to his feet, ready to drag him back to the cells.

 _He fought well,_ the voice in the back of Arthur’s head whispered. _Even though he doesn’t know how he fought well. He is strong and brave, he is an ally._ “Wait,” Arthur said, “let him go. He may be an idiot, but he’s a brave one.” The guards compiled and Merlin gave him a suspicious look. “There’s something about you, Merlin. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“Sire,” Sergei said, looking oddly proud which immediately soured Arthur’s mood. “If you are done fighting for your honor or whatever, we should go.”

Gaius was dragging Merlin away by his ear and Isabene was nowhere to be seen.

Arthur trudged after the guard.

* * *

“ _Merlin… Merlin…_ ”

Isabene rolled over in her bed and cursed into her pillow. She wondered if it was possible to strangle a dragon. If he was sending the call to her, as well as Merlin, on purpose, she was determined to find out.

“ _Merlin…_ ”

“I wasn’t going to sleep anyway so I guess I’ll just murder the last dragon in existence,” she muttered. “That’s fine. No one is going to care in the long run if I run him through with a sword.” Isabene continued murmuring vague threats as she snuck down towards the cells.

She had almost made it down to the cells before running into someone else.

“ _Isa_ —?”

Isabene grabbed Merlin and clapped her hand over his mouth. “Are you insane?” she hissed in his ear. “There are guards at the base of the stairs, they’ll hear you!”

“What are you doing here?” Merlin asked.

“What are _you_ doing here?” she countered. “I expected to find you back in a cell after the stunt you pulled in the market. What did you think you were doing?”

Merlin wrenched himself out of her grip and crossed his arms. “Standing up to Arthur.”

“Really? Because it looked like you were trying to get yourself killed.”

“I thought you’d approve.”

“I approved of you trying to sock him in the jaw. It took guts to get in his face, but Merlin using magic against the prince of Camelot isn’t brave, it's _stupid_.” Isabene poked him in the chest before peering over the railing to try and catch a glimpse of which guards were on watch.

“I… No, I don’t... I wasn’t using magic.” Merlin spluttered.

“Sure you weren’t. Just like you’re not using magic right now to change your eyes.” She looked back at him. “What color glamour are you using, anyway?”

He blinked at her. “Um, blue.”

“Really? Huh.” She looked back down. “It looks like it’s Sergei and Madoc. A notice-me-not should get us into the tunnels just fine.”

“A what?”

Isabene crept down the first half flight of stairs. “The druidic spell.”

“Uh…” Merlin looked distinctly confused and uncomfortable. She deflated.

“You don’t know the incantation, do you?”

“No.”

Isabene cursed. Druid magic was not her strong suit by a long shot, there was no way she could cast the spell on both her and Merlin and hold it long enough to get the guards. “There goes that plan, then.”

Merlin considered the two guards. “I have an idea,” he said, stepping forward. When Sergei rolled the dice, Merlin’s eyes shimmered a brighter gold and the dice shot off the table. Isabene tensed, prepared for the guards to grab their swords and search for the source of such obvious sorcery. To her surprise, Madoc actually went after the dice. Even after they rolled farther down the corridor, he continued to try and pick them up.

She nearly collapsed from shock when Sergei got up to follow him. “Come on!” Merlin whispered, pulling her down the rest of the stairs. He reached for a torch, but Isabene stopped him.

“They’ll notice one is gone.”

“We’ll need light.”

“Don’t worry about it, let’s just go before they come back.”

The two continued down the tunnel stairway, Isabene effortlessly lighting a flame in her palm once the light from behind them began to fade.

“I could’ve done that,” Merlin said.

“You tried to take a torch,” Isabene reminded him.

“Why would a ward of Uther Pendragon become a sorceress?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject.

“I didn’t _become_ anything. And I’m not a sorceress.”

“Isabene, you’re holding a ball of fire.”

She stopped walking and turned to face Merlin. “Gaius isn’t teaching you anything, is he?” When Merlin didn’t respond, she sighed. “For sorcerers, magic is a skill. It’s something one learns and has to practice before they can cast spells successfully. It’s not like that for people like us.”

“People like us?” Merlin repeated quietly.

Isabene nodded. “For warlocks, magic is a gift. It’s an innate ability and, for the most part, casting is instinctual. Training helps, of course. Control is important, especially in Camelot. And learning new spells doesn’t hurt.”

“Do you know any other warlocks? Besides me, I mean.”

“Personally? No.”

“ _Merlin…_ ” came the dragon’s voice again. The princess scowled at the darkness.

Merlin noticed. “Can you hear him?”

“He’s not being very subtle.”

They continued in silence for a few moments before Merlin spoke up again. “Can I ask… Deira was destroyed by magic…”

“It wasn’t me.”

“But you still use it? Even in Camelot?”

She stopped again at the end of the tunnel. “Magic is a part of who I am. Do I feel bad that it’s easier for me to hide in plain sight than it is for the rest of our people? Sure. But living in Camelot isn’t a reason to deny a part of myself, it’s a reason to learn to be careful. Especially about who I trust. Keep that in mind.”

“Why? Who’s calling my name?”

“Someone I don’t trust.” Isabene led Merlin out onto the ledge that overlooked the dragon’s cavern. “Show yourself!” she shouted into the abyss.

The Great Dragon flew to land in front of them. “I am here, young Rhian. And I see you brought the warlock. How small you are for such a great destiny.”

“What do you mean?” Merlin asked. “What destiny?”

“The gift you two share, Merlin, was given for a reason.”

Isabene crossed her arms. “I’m done with your riddles. I told you to leave him alone if he wasn’t involved and you’re not. If Merlin has something to do with Emrys’ prophecy, I have a right to know.”

“Who is Emrys?” Merlin questioned. “What does he have to do with you?”

“Emrys is a prophesied warlock of legend. He’s supposed to be the protector of the King.”

“And if Emrys is to protect the Once and Future King, Freya is to protect Emrys,” the dragon added.

“My name is Isabene,” the princess grumbled.

Merlin looked up at the dragon. “But why did you summon me?”

“Arthur is the Once and Future King who will unite the land of Albion,” the dragon replied.

“So you’ve said,” Isabene huffed.

“But he faces many threats from friend and foe alike.”

“I don't see what this has to do with me,” Merlin pressed.

The Great Dragon looked directly at him. “Everything. Without you, Arthur will never succeed. Without you, there will be no Albion.”

The young warlock gaped at him. “No. No, you've got this wrong.”

“There is no right or wrong, only what is and what isn't,” said the dragon.

“But I'm serious! If anyone wants to go and kill him, they can go ahead. In fact, I'll give them a hand.”

The dragon laughed. “None of us can choose our destiny, Merlin, and none of us can escape it.”

“No. No way. No. No. There must be another Arthur because this one's an idiot.”

“Perhaps,” the dragon retorted, “it's your destiny to change that.” With that, he flew off.

“Wait! Wait! Wait, stop!” Merlin called after him. “No, I need to know more!” He looked at the Deiran princess, who had her eyes closed. “Isabene?”

‘ _Enough stalling, answer my question. Is Merlin Emrys or not?_ ’

‘ _Merlin is the one you must protect._ ’

She opened her eyes. “He’s not going to give us anything else. We need to get out of here or we’ll be caught on the way back.”

* * *

Isabene spent the next day wondering what she was supposed to do with this information.

She was Merlin’s destined protector. That was fine, it’s not like she wasn’t already planning on helping him stay safe in Camelot. Granted, Merlin was a bit more… impulsive than she had realized and she apparently couldn’t even count on Gaius to be sharing the basics with him.

And he hated Arthur. That was a real set back. How was she supposed to fix _that_?

Eventually, she had to stop pacing her rooms. Amice came in with her dress for the banquet and Isabene had to worry about the banquet instead. At the party itself, Isabene took her place amongst Arthur and the knights, joking with the rest of them. When she had first arrived in Camelot, she had gotten strange looks from both the nobility and any of Arthur’s friends when she tried to fit into their group. But Princess Isabene had long since earned her place amongst the men.

The jokes and the laughter trailed off as Morgana approached. She was wearing her favorite red and gold dress, which Isabene knew she had chosen purely to stun the knights or one knight in particular. Arthur was speechless. “Morgana, you look, well…”

Isabene snickered. “So articulate, Sire,” she mocked.

Celebratory horns signaled King Uther's entrance and everyone found their place at the tables. “We have enjoyed twenty years of peace and prosperity. It has brought the kingdom and myself many pleasures, but few can compare with the honor of introducing Lady Helen of Mora.”

Everyone applauded. The music began and the Uther and the court took their seats. Isabene looked up at Lady Helen and nearly choked. The woman standing on the opposite end of the hall was _Thomas’ mother._

Isabene whipped her head around, expecting to see Uther jumping out of his chair and shouting, but nobody else was reacting to this. No one else seemed to think anything was wrong. She started to sing. The words of the song were clearly an incantation and members of the court, Arthur and Uther included, were nodding off to sleep.

Isabene didn’t notice the court members nodding off to sleep at first. But as more and more of them closed their eyes, she realized what was going on. She glanced over at Merlin, who seemed to have noticed as well and was pressing his hands over his ears. Isabene tried to get to her feet, to set Mary’s dress on fire, to do _something_. But the spell was making it difficult to move.

She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and reached out to the other warlock mentally. ‘ _Merlin? Can you hear me?_ ’

Merlin whipped his head around to stare at Isabene as cobwebs began to form over the enchanted sleepers

‘ _I really hope you can. She’s here to kill Arthur. I can’t move, you’ve got to stop her._ ’

Mary pulled a dagger from her sleeve, staring at the Prince. Merlin looked around frantically before magically dropping the chandelier on Lady Helen as she raised her arm to throw the weapon. Everyone started to wake and pull the cobwebs off, muttering. The King stood, now free from the spell and clearly able to see passed whatever glamour the witch must have been using. Mary raised herself up enough to throw the dagger at Arthur.

Time itself seemed to slow. Isabene watched the dagger fly towards its target…

And impale itself in Arthur’s chair.

Arthur himself was on the ground a few feet away on top of Merlin, who appeared to have pulled him out of the way just in time. Isabene rushed over to make sure both of the boys were alright.

“Did you really just do that?” she whispered to Merlin.

“I’m… not sure,” he breathed.

The Pendragons stared at Merlin. “You saved my boy's life,” Uther said. “A debt must be repaid.”

“Oh, well…”

“Don't be so modest. You shall be rewarded.”

Merlin shifted, awkwardly. “No, honestly. You don't have to, Your Highness.”

“No, absolutely. This merits something quite special.”

“Well…”

“You shall be rewarded a position in the royal household.” Uther put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “You shall be Prince Arthur's manservant.”

The court applauded and Isabene grinned at Merlin who was trying not to gape at the King.

“Father!” Arthur protested, pointedly not looking at Merlin who was avoiding the Prince’s eyes by glaring at Isabene.

Well, that solved at least a few of her problems.

* * *

Gaius knocked on Merlin's chamber door and entered. “Seems you're a hero.”

“Hard to believe, isn't it?” Merlin chuckled.

“No. I knew it from the moment I met you. When you saved my life, remember?”

The boy frowned. “But… that was magic.”

Gaius nodded. “And now, it seems, we finally found a use for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw how you saved Arthur's life,” the physician said pointedly. “Perhaps that's its purpose.”

Merlin sighed. “My destiny.”

“Indeed. This book was given to me when I was your age, but I have a feeling it will be of more use to you than it was to me.” Gaius handed Merlin a book wrapped in a cloth.

Merlin unlatched it and looked inside. “But this is a book of magic.”

“Which is why you must keep it hidden.”

“I will study every word,” Merlin vowed.

Someone knocked on the door of the physician's chambers. Merlin went to answer. “Isabene,” he greeted.

“Merlin, Arthur wants you right away.” She shot him a lopsided grin. “Your destiny calls, best not keep him waiting any longer.”

“Right,” Merlin grumbled. “Thanks.”

The princess laughed. “Oh, cheer up, Merlin. I’m sure we’ll have loads of fun.”


	2. That Which Makes Them Whole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter shoutout to Insanity13Heartless, enjoy the Isabene sass

It was a few days into Merlin’s stay in Camelot, and Isabene was starting to see the benefits of having an ally at her side. Merlin, for all his apparent dislike of the prince, had taken to his new duties quite well. He was also beginning to understand that for every time either she or Gaius caught him using his magic to complete his chores, she was going to ask Amice to show him the ropes. Hopefully, in time, it would teach the idiot to be a little more subtle.

No amount of magic, however, was getting Merlin out of sparring practice with Arthur. Especially not with a tournament only a day away. Normally, Arthur would jump on the chance to deck his servants out in armor and whack once with his sword before letting Isabene take their place as his practice opponent. One blow wouldn’t necessarily take out any given servant, but most of them were smart enough to quit before any serious damage could be done.

Merlin hadn’t seemed to have gotten the memo.

The ill-fitting armor did nothing to help Merlin’s balance after being hit multiple times and his lack of a proper stance certainly wasn’t making his situation much better.

“Body! Shield! Body! Shield! Head!” Arthur called out before each swing.

“Head?” Merlin protested, making the mistake of lowering his guard. Arthur whacked his helmet. “Ow!”

Isabene was doing her very best not to laugh at how ridiculous the two of them looked. Merlin turned to her, undoubtedly scowling under the helmet, leaving himself open to Arthur tagging him in the back. “Come on, Merlin, you’re not even trying,” the prince complained. “I’ve got a tournament to win!”

Merlin stumbled backward, trying to regain his balance. “Can we stop now, please?” Arthur attacked, though Merlin was able to block the first few swings, another hit to the head toppled him backward, his helmet rolling off. 

“You're braver than you look,” Arthur admitted. “Most servants collapse after the first blow.”

“Is it over?” the boy groaned.

“That was just the warm-up.” 

“Why can’t Isabene have a go?”

The prince outright laughed at that. “What, you think she’d go easier on you? Get up, Merlin. How’s your mace work coming along?”

“Oh, give him a break,” Isabene scolded lightheartedly, helping Merlin to his feet. She grabbed a mace and faced Arthur. “Bet I can have you on the ground in five minutes.”

Merlin and Isabene took turns sparring with Arthur, though Merlin’s turns were more of a beating than anything. Arthur eventually allowed the servant boy to head back to Gaius’ chambers while he and Isabene started back towards the castle proper on their own. Isabene glanced over at the prince. He was almost twenty-one years of age now, almost old enough to be crowned the official heir to the throne, certainly not the eight-year-old boy she’d tried to toss in the mud when he had attempted to steal her wooden sword.

_ He’s not bad looking, _ a voice whispered in the back of her head,  _ you could certainly do much worse _ … Isabene shook her head, trying to dislodge both the thought and the memory of an overheard conversation that had caused it.

“Is something wrong?” Arthur asked.

“No,” she was quick to assure him. “Nothing wrong. I was thinking about something I heard this morning.”

“Eager to share the gossip with Morgana?”

Isabene laughed. “You best hope I don’t breathe a word of it to her. She’d be on both of our cases for ages.

Arthur raised his brows. “Well, now I’m intrigued. What did you hear?”

“Eager to butt in on our gossip circle, Arthur?”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

It wasn’t that Isabene wasn’t sure if she wanted to share the information or not, she had wanted to tell Merlin earlier if only for his reaction, but she wasn’t convinced Arthur would want to know. Sure, Arthur Pendragon was as rebellious as the next prince, but rarely did he defy a direct order from the King.

Not that it would be an order so much as an instruction. And it’s not as if it wasn’t commonplace for such things to be arranged. But  _ still _ …

“Your father was discussing with his advisors about arranging your marriage.”

Arthur frowned. “Well, that’s not too surprising. It was bound to happen sometime soon. I trust my father’s judgment on who he thinks would be a good queen.” He stopped in his tracks and looked at her. “It wasn’t Morgana he was talking about, was it?”

Isabene jumped on the chance to distract him. “Why? Scared she’d murder you in her sleep?”

“She could certainly try.”

“You wouldn’t even notice! You’d just lie there, snoring away--”

“I do  _ not _ snore!” Arthur protested loudly over Isabene’s laughter. “Honestly though, was it Morgana?”

Isabene hesitated. “No,” she admitted. “He was actually talking about me.”

“You?” He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

She almost wanted to be insulted at his tone, but in all fairness, Arthur was right to be surprised. Isabene was a princess with no kingdom, no people. There was no reason from a political standpoint to pick her as Arthur’s betrothed, Camelot stood to gain nothing from the arrangement. 

Nothing except a queen who, as far as Uther Pendragon knew, had as much reason to hate magic as he did.

And that reasoning made her blood boil.

Instead of responding with that bitter thought, Isabene pouted in mock offense. “I  _ am _ a princess, you know,” It only occurred to her upon seeing Arthur smirk that it probably wasn’t the best response. “Not that I could ever imagine anyone actually wanting to marry you. Not me.”

“You’re very quick to say so,” Arthur noted.

Isabene scowled at him. “Shut up. I could beat the snot out of you if I wanted.”

“And now you can marry me if you wanted. Do you want to marry me,  _ Princess Isabene _ ?”

“Why did I think telling you this was a good idea?”

“That's not much of an answer.” Arthur teased. 

“It wasn’t much of a proposal,” Isabene shot back. She groaned as his grin widened and he moved to stand in front of her. “Absolutely not! Goodbye!” she declared, running away from Arthur's hysterical laughter.

After fleeing to her rooms, Isabene was able to remove Mino’s bandages for the last time. Once she had gotten an assurance that her maidservant Amice would make sure the poor dog didn’t get into any more trouble, she set back out to roam the grounds.

And ran right into a panicking Merlin carrying Arthur’s armor.

“I need your help,” he said. “I’ve got no idea how to properly put Arthur’s armor on. You know someone who could show me, right?”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t know?” Isabene asked with a smirk.

Merlin nearly dropped the helmet. “Oh, would you? I mean, I’m sure you would know more than I do and—”

“Calm down, Merlin. I was just on my way to see Gwen. I’m sure between me and  _ the blacksmith’s daughter _ we can figure it out.” Merlin’s whole body sagged with relief and she laughed. “You really are useless at this, aren’t you?”

“What, you think I’ve been manservant to a prince before?” he snarked. “I’ve no idea what I’m doing.”

“I can tell,” Isabene said.

He huffed, then got a serious look on his face. “Does… does anyone else here know about…?”

“Not here, no,” she answered, knowing exactly what Merlin was referring to. “Back in Deira, there were a handful of people. My father didn’t want it to be common knowledge for obvious reasons. The knights who brought me to Camelot all knew. But here it’s just me, you, and our rather largely irritating mutual friend.”

“Arthur?” Merlin joked. Isabene rolled her eyes and shoved him. “So Gaius doesn’t know?”

“No. Does he know that I know about you?”

“No.”

They had almost reached Gwen’s home when Isabene spoke again, “Arthur’s not all that bad once you really get to know him, you know.”

He gave her a  _ look _ . “I’m sure.”

“Merlin…”

“Please don’t try to give me the ‘he’s a sheltered prince’ and ‘Arthur has duties of his own’ excuses,” Merlin said. “You turned out just fine, this is on him.”

Isabene scowled. “I don’t have King Magic-Murderer looming over my shoulder making sure I don’t embarrass the kingdom every second of the day. Arthur has a lot of expectations to live up to. It’s not an excuse, but it’s something you should keep in mind.”

Gwen, as Isabene predicted, was happy to help teach Merlin how to properly dress a knight. She placed each piece on Merlin himself and gave him explanations for each piece. Isabene smiled as she watched. Even if she couldn’t convince Merlin to stick around for Arthur himself, she could give him other reasons to stay in Camelot.

“So, you've got voiders on the arms,” Gwen explained. “The hauberk goes over the chest, and I guess you know what to do with the helmet.” She handed Merlin said piece of armor.

Merlin put the helmet on. “Yeah, that was the only bit I'd figured out.”

“You look ridiculous,” Isabene said, stepping forward to undo all of the buckles and help Merlin out of the armor.

“Hey!”

Gwen giggled. “Well, she’s not wrong.”

“How come you're both so much better at this than me?” Merlin complained.

“I'm the blacksmith's daughter,” Gwen said. “I know pretty much everything there is to know about armor, which is actually kind of sad.”

“No, it's brilliant!” he assured her.

Once she got all of the armor off, Isabene dumped it all back in Merlin’s arms. “You’ve still got time to get to the training grounds before Arthur noticed you’re not there, but you’ll have to hurry.”

Merlin made a face. “He’s just going to beat me up again if you’re not there.

“I’ll be right behind you.

He huffed, but thanked Gwen one last time and rushed out the door. Gwen watched him go. “He’s sweet,” she said.

“He’s going to get himself killed.” Isabene crossed her arms. “Arthur’s old manservants may have been dull, but they survived because they knew when to shut their mouths and hide. Merlin’s got no sense of self-preservation.”

“You seem awfully worried about someone you’ve only known for a few days,” Gwen hummed.

“Gwen, if I wanted Merlin for myself, I wouldn’t have brought him to you.” She winked at the maidservant who responded with a shake of her head. “I’ll see you at the tournament.”

* * *

Arthur wondered if anyone had ever died from nerves.

It wasn’t that he was  _ nervous _ — obviously because knights never get nervous— it was just that Arthur was rather keenly aware of the pressure he was under to maintain his title of reigning champion. Disappointing the people, his knights, his  _ father _ was simply not an option. Not to mention he would surely never hear the end of it from Morgana or Isabene.

No, it wasn’t nerves that were making him jumpy. He was simply eager to see the tournament began. And his servant was being irritatingly slow. “You do know the tournament starts today?” he reminded Merlin impatiently.

“Yes, Sire,” was Merlin’s response as he fiddled with the buckles on Arthur’s vambrace. “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t get nervous.”

“Really? I thought everyone got nervous.”

“Will you shut up!” Arthur snapped, glaring at Merlin incredulously as the idiot failed to figure out how to tie the cape. Once he had figured that out, Merlin handed him his helmet and Arthur waited for his servant to hand him a weapon as well. 

Merlin simply stood there looking pleased with himself. “Great, yeah. I think you’re all set.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Arthur asked lowly. When Merlin didn’t move, he growled, “My sword.”

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, sorry. Guess you’ll be needing--”

“This?” someone else offered. Arthur turned to see Isabene twirling the swords. “You weren’t going to go out there without it, were you, Arthur?”

“It’s not my fault my father gave me an incompetent servant,” Arthur grumbled, snatching his sword back from her. “Shouldn’t you be seated with Morgana?”

Isabene shrugged. “I wanted to stop by and make sure Merlin was doing alright for his  _ first tournament _ ,” she said, emphasizing the last few words to remind him exactly how new his manservant was to this whole thing. “And to make sure you were alright. I know how important this tournament is to you and your father.”

Arthur waved a hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Are you sure you didn’t come to give me a token of your favor?” he pressed with a smirk.

Isabene stuck her tongue out at him and flounced off towards the stands. Merlin raised an eyebrow at the prince, but Arthur promptly ignored him and joined the other knights by the gates.

When the tournament was set to start, the knights marched in two neat lines out onto the grounds. Arthur spotted Isabene and Morgana, and their respective maidservants, in their spots by the King’s seat. The crowd cheered as Uther himself walked out to address the competitors.

“Knights of the realm, it's a great honor to welcome you to a tournament at Camelot,” the King announced. “Over the next three days, you will come to put your bravery to the test, your skills as warriors, and of course, to challenge the reigning champion, my son, Prince Arthur. Only one can have the honor of being crowned champion, and he will receive a prize of one thousand gold pieces.”

A box was opened, revealing the gold. “It is in combat that we learn a knight's true nature, whether he is indeed a warrior or a coward. The tournament begins!”

Cheering echoed once again while the knights, save Arthur and his first opponent, exited the arena. Uther placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Father,” Arthur said.

“I trust you will make me proud.”

Arthur scowled as Uther took his seat. He could  _ not _ fail. A pair of guards brought Arthur and his opponent their shields and took their capes. The two fighters put on their helmets and the cheering increased as the fight began. 

This knight was rather good, he had to admit. Arthur had put him on the defensive fairly quickly, but it didn’t stay that way for long. Unfortunately, the knight made the mistake of letting the prince get close enough that a well-placed strike with his elbow knocked the opposing man’s helmet, and his body, to the ground. Arthur won that round.

The bouts were just as interesting as always. Arthur took note of the fighting styles of the competitors he was most likely to face. The biggest threat to his title was clearly the knight in yellow, Knight Valiant. He was a very aggressive fighter that Arthur was glad he was not face to face with at the moment.

Even Merlin had taken notice. “Knight Valiant looked pretty handy with a sword,” he commented once the matches were over with for the day.

“Morgana seems quite taken with him as well,” Isabene commented as she approached.

“Of course she would be,” Arthur scoffed.

Isabene crossed her arms and smirked. “I’d be careful, Arthur, because your tone makes it sound like you’re jealous of the man.”

The knight in question returned to the tents and upon spotting Arthur, approached the trio. “May I offer my congratulations on your victories today?”

“Likewise.”

Valiant turned to Isabene, who regarded him with crossed arms and a skeptical stare. “I hope to see you at the reception this evening, my Lady.” When Isabene didn’t respond, the knight turned and left.

The three of them watched him go. “Creep,” Merling muttered. Both Arthur and Isabene snorted.

Before either of the two of them could think that he actually found Merlin funny, Arthur returned to business. “For tomorrow you need to repair my shield, wash my tunic, clean my boots, sharpen my sword, and polish my chainmail.” He started to walk off. “And don’t even think about asking Isabene for help because if she ditches Morgana again, you’ll both be dead.”

* * *

The reception after the first evening was always Isabene’s least favorite part of the tournaments. She was beyond sick of being paraded around as a potential prize and listening to Lord So and So’s son boast about his defeat of Knight Whatshisname from the Kingdom of Pretentia as if she couldn’t have bested the man herself. Unfortunately, Isabene was forbidden from challenging visiting dignitaries to duels no matter how much she wanted to kick their smug, knightly butts.

“Knight Valiant of the Western Isles, My Lord,” the man introduced himself to Uther.

“I saw you fighting today. You have a very aggressive style,” the King complimented.

“As my Lord said, to lose is to be disgraced.”

“I couldn't agree more. Knight Valiant may I present Princess Isabene and the Lady Morgana, my wards.”

Valiant bowed to kiss Morgana's hand while Isabene had to repress the urge to gag dramatically. “My Lady,” he said.

Morgana smiled. “I saw you competing today.”

“I saw you watching. I understand the tournament champion has the honor of escorting one of the Ladies to the feast.”

“Escorting myself,” Morgana corrected. “Princess Isabene has declined the opportunity.”

“Then I will give everything to win the tournament, my Lady.” He vowed He nodded to Isabene who returned a polite smile. “Princess.”

Morgana and Gwen watched Valiant move on to shake hands with the other knights, but Isabene’s attention was trained on Arthur as he approached the King and bowed.

“They all seem rather impressed by Knight Valiant,” Morgana said as Arthur came to greet them.

“They're not the only ones,” the Prince responded pointedly.

Morgana smirked. “You're not jealous, are you?”

“I don't see there's anything to be jealous of,” Arthur shot back

“Harsh words,” Isabene said.

Arthur scoffed. “Hardly. You don’t like him either.”

“I don’t like the fact that I can’t fight him myself,” she grumbled.

“That would hardly be fair to him, would it?” he joked. Isabene hid her smile behind a roll of her eyes as he moved on.

“Could Arthur be any more annoying?” Morgana complained. “I do hope Knight Valiant wins the tournament.”

“You don't really mean that,” Gwen said.

“Yes, I do.”

Isabene shook her head. “No, you don’t. Can you imagine the mood he’d be in? Do you really want to deal with that or the other part?” She inclined her head slightly at Uther to indicate what the King’s reaction to Arthur’s loss would be. 

Morgana made a face at her and turned to greet the next knight.

Isabene left the reception early that night and woke early the next morning. She was supposed to spar with Arthur after breakfast but didn’t manage to find him until later, Merlin just having finished dressing him for the tournament.

“That was much better,” Arthur complimented. “Not that it could have got any worse.”

“I'm a fast learner,” said Merlin.

“Very nice,” Isabene offered from the doorway. “You’re still missing something, though, Arthur.”

Merlin looked vaguely panicked, but Arthur frowned at her. “What?”

She approached and tied a piece of green cloth around his arm. The Prince raised an eyebrow and shot her a suggestive grin and she shoved him. “It’s for  _ luck _ . And now you can represent Deira as well.”

His grin dropped. “Yes, I noticed none of them returned this year.”

“None of who?” Merlin asked.

Arthur and Isabene looked at each other. “The people who brought me to Camelot, some of them were knights,” Isabene explained. “I used to sit on the battlements and watch the competitors arrive, waiting for them to come back for one of the tournaments.” 

“Have they?”

Neither answered. Arthur was wearing an almost guilty look that Merlin thought he’d never see on the face of a prince. 

Isabene noticed as well. “I stopped expecting them to long ago,” she assured him. “Now go on, go win, Arthur.”

“And good luck,” Merlin added.

Isabene went with Merlin down to the grounds and stayed with Merlin on the sidelines of the arena instead of taking her place in the stands. At first, the manservant seemed tense, but as the fights went on he started to cheer more and more. 

“Yes!” he shouted when Arthur won again and she laughed. 

When Knight Valiant and Sir Ewan began their bout, Isabene turned to Merlin to ask what had been bothering him earlier, only to be interrupted by Gaius’ approach. “Is it my imagination, or are you beginning to enjoy yourself?”

“It isn't totally horrible all the time,” Merlin admitted.

In the arena, Valiant had knocked down Sir Ewan pinned him down with his shield. Valiant hit him one more time and stood. 

Sir Ewan didn’t move.

Merlin frowned. “I think he's badly hurt.”

Gaius rushed out to check the knight over and, after a moment’s inspection, waved a few guards over to help carry Ewan off. Merlin rocked back on forth on his toes, ready to go after the group and help, but Isabene put her hand on his shoulder. “Stay until Arthur dismisses you. I’ll go help Gaius,” she said. Merlin nodded and Isabene rushed after them.

By the time Merlin returned to Gaius’s rooms, Gaius had banned Isabene from trying to help, leaving her to pace the room and shoot the physician angry glares as he fussed over the knight alone. Merlin dumped Arthur’s armor on the table. “How is he?”

“It's most odd. Look at this,” Gaius said. Both Merlin and Isabene went over to get a closer look at Ewan’s neck. “See these two small wounds.”

“It looks like a snake bite,” Isabene observed.

“How could he have been bitten by a snake?” Merlin asked. “He was injured in the sword fight.”

Gaius hummed in agreement. “But the symptoms are consistent with poisoning: slow pulse, fever, paralysis.”

The two warlocks stepped back. “Can you heal him?”

“Well, if it is a snake bite, I'll have to extract venom from the snake that bit him to make an antidote,” said Gaius.

“What happens if he doesn't get the antidote?”

“Then I'm afraid there's nothing more I can do for him,” he admitted. “He's going to die.”

Merlin looked at Isabene. “He was fighting Knight Valiant.”

“What's that?” Gaius asked without looking away from the unconscious patient.

“Nothing,” Merlin said and pulled Isabene out into the hall.

Once they were a decent ways away from Gaius’ chambers, Isabene forced him to stop walking. “Why does it matter that he was fighting Valiant?”

“His shield,” Merlin explained impatiently, pulling her into moving again. “The snakes on his shield. I saw one blink.”

She stopped resisting and hurried along the corridors towards the guest chambers. Merlin pushed the door to Valiant’s rooms open slightly to peer inside.

‘ _ What do you see?  _ ’ Isabene pressed, taking care to speak with her mind.

Merlin glanced back at her long enough to give her a  _ hold on _ look before going back to spying on the knight. She could hear hissing coming from the room, which did not bode well for the situation. Merlin gulped and retreated from the doorway, grabbing Isabene’s wrist and sprinting off to hide in an alcove.

Isabene heard the sound of footsteps retreating and Merlin relaxed. She poked his arm. “Well?” 

“They’re alive,” he breathed. “All three of them.”

* * *

Isabene did not come to find him the next day and seeing her sitting stoically beside Morgana in the stands only increased Arthur’s suspicion that something was amiss. He fought his next competitor with ease. As he told Merlin, the man may have had raw strength on his side, but Arthur was too quick for him. There were only two bouts to fight in that day, both of which he won. 

His success in the tournament had no bearing on his ability to locate the princess afterward. Not that he expected to find her after the first hour of searching, Isabene was rather good at staying hidden when she didn’t wish to be found.

Still, he wished he could’ve had the chance to speak with her before his father dragged him to dinner with Valiant and the other knights of Camelot and forced him to listen to Uther shower the man with praise. There was something about Knight Valiant that set Arthur on edge and, despite what Morgana might insist, it wasn’t jealousy.

Unless that stupid little voice in the back of his head whisper shouting  _ HE’S DANGEROUS  _ over and over again was a manifestation of his jealousy, which Arthur highly doubted.

Arthur didn’t eat much with the others and took his food back to his rooms where Isabene seemed to have been waiting for him. “And where exactly have you been all day?” he asked sharply.

“I…” she began, her expression cycling through concern, conflict, and determination too quickly for Arthur’s liking. “Listen, Arthur…”

Whatever Isabene wanted to tell him was interrupted by Arthur’s idiot servant throwing open the door and declaring, “Knight Valiant is using magic to cheat in the tournament!”

Arthur was about to tell the moron off for interrupting when Isabene launched herself out of the chair she was sitting in. “You got proof?”

“I did. I cut the head off of one of the snakes.” Merlin offered her the severed snake’s head.

“You?” Arthur looked at his manservant skeptically. “You chopped its head off?”

“Ewan was bitten by a snake from the shield when he was fighting Valiant. You can talk to Gaius, you can see the puncture wounds in Ewan's neck where the snake bit him. Ewan was beating him, he had to cheat,” Merlin insisted.

Arthur shook his head. “Valiant wouldn't dare use magic in Camelot.”

“Ewan was pinned under Valiant's shield,” Isabene recalled. “No one would’ve been able to see the snake bite him.”

Arthur turned to her. “You know I don't like the guy either, but that doesn't mean he's cheating.”

“Gaius is preparing an antidote to the snake venom. When Ewan's conscious, he'll tell you what happened. If you fight Valiant in the final, he'll use the shield. It's the only way he can beat you. Look at it!” Merlin showed him the snake’s head. “Have you ever seen any snakes like this in Camelot?”

The prince took the head and studied it. No, he had to admit that he’d never seen anything like it. But surely that didn’t mean that Valiant was stupid enough to try and use a magic shield in a tournament run by King Uther, right? He looked at Isabene whose gaze was focused on the snake’s head and was as venomous as the fangs it bared. If they were right, this is was Arthur had to face the next day. Could he possibly come out of the fight unharmed if his opponent had two more snakes at his disposal?

“I know I'm just a servant and my word doesn't count for anything,” Merlin said, “but I wouldn't lie to you.”

_ He’s telling the truth. _ But was Arthur willing to risk his honor on Merlin’s words? “I want you to swear to me what you're telling me is true.”

“I swear it's true.”

Arthur nodded. “Then I believe you.”

In a whirlwind of summons and confusion, the court was gathered in the throne room. Arthur had sent Isabene to help Gaius and ensure that Ewan would make it to the court while Merlin stayed at Arthur’s side. Uther swept into the room, looking very unhappy, and took his place on the throne. “Why have you summoned the court?”

“I believe Knight Valiant is using a magic shield to cheat in the tournament,” Arthur declared.

Uther looked at the knight in question. “Valiant, what do you have to say to this?”

“My Lord, this is ridiculous. I've never used magic,” he denied. “Does your son have any evidence to support this outrageous accusation?”

“Do you have evidence?” the King asked his son.

“I do.” Arthur motioned for Merlin to come forward and Merlin handed Uther the snake’s head.

“Let me see this shield.”

“Don’t let him get too close,” Merlin hissed in Arthur’s ear.

“Be careful, My Lord,” the Prince warned, drawing his sword. 

Valiant presented the shield to Uther. “As you can see, My Lord, it's just an ordinary shield,” he claimed.

Arthur scoffed. “He's not going to let everyone see the snakes come alive.”

Uther frowned. “Then how am I to know that what you say is true?”

Arthur stood straighter, determined to convince his father. “I have a witness. Knight Ewan was bitten by one of the snakes from the shield. Its venom made him grievously ill, however, he has received an antidote. He will confirm that Knight Valiant is using magic.”

“Where is this witness?”

“He should—” Arthur was cut off by the doors swinging open and Isabene stumbling in, clutching her shoulder. She was pale and drenched in sweat and Arthur’s stomach immediately dropped.

“My Lord…” Isabene managed, “a snake… has killed… Knight Ewan…”

Arthur took a step toward her. “Isabene?”

Merlin rushed to her side as her knees buckled and slowly laid her on the ground, moving her hand out of the way. “It’s a snake bite,” he reported. “We need to get her to Gaius now.”

Rage flowed through Arthur’s veins as he looked at Isabene prone in Merlin’s arms. Who exactly did this man think he was, attacking the King’s ward and planning to murder the prince? Arthur pointed his sword at Knight Valiant. “You  _ dare _ —”

“Arthur!” his father shouted. “It seems to me since your witness is dead you have no proof of these allegations.”

“The snake killed Ewan and attacked Isabene!” he protested.

“And yet the snakes are very clearly still on this shield. Have you seen Valiant using magic?”

“No. But my servant fought one of the snakes from—”

“Your servant?” the King snapped. “You made these outrageous accusations against a knight on the word of your servant?”

“I believe he's telling the truth!” Arthur insisted.

Valiant stepped forward. “My Lord, am I really to be judged on some hearsay from a boy?”

Merlin, who was handing an unconscious Isabene over to the nearest guard, nearly snarled. “I've seen those snakes come alive!” 

“How dare you interrupt?” Uther raged. “Guards!”

The more guardsmen started to drag Merlin from the room as well, but Valiant stopped them. “My Lord. I'm sure he was merely mistaken. I wouldn't want him punished on my account.”

Uther turned to his son. “You see? This is how a true knight behaves— with gallantry and honor.”

“My Lord, if your son made these accusations because he's afraid to fight me, then I will graciously accept his withdrawal.”

Uther turned on his son.“Is this true? Do you wish to withdraw from the tournament?”

“No!” Arthur protested. “But he—”

“Then what am I to make of these allegations?”

Arthur gritted his teeth. “Obviously there has been a misunderstanding. I withdraw the allegation against Knight Valiant. Please accept my apology.”

“Accepted,” said the treacherous knight. Arthur stormed out the doors to help bring Isabene back to Gaius’ rooms. 

What on Earth had he been thinking, accusing his father’s favorite competitor on the word of a servant? He should’ve known better than to take that kind of risk. But still, no matter how bad of an idea it was, Arthur was admittedly floored—and  _ furious— _ that Uther simply didn’t believe him. Uther Pendragon, a man who had arrested—and on one occasion  _ executed _ — people for the slightest suspicion of sorcery, refused to believe that there was a magical threat in Camelot?

Arthur threw the door to Gaius’s room open causing the man to jump. “Sire, I’m afraid Knight Ewan is—”

 “Dead,” Arthur finished for him. “Isabene did manage to warn us before she succumbed to the poison herself.”

Gaius’ eyes went wide. “Bring her here, then.” 

Arthur took Isabene from the guardsmen who removed Ewan’s body from the cot. He placed her down gently and Gaius immediately set to work making more of the antidote. 

Merlin joined just as the guardsmen were taking Ewan away. “Arthur—”

“I believed you, I  _ trusted _ you and you made me look like a complete fool,” Arthur hissed.

“I know it didn’t go exactly to plan.”

“ _ Didn’t go to plan? _ ” Arthur whirled on him. “My father and the entire royal court think I’m a coward! You humiliated me!”

Merlin stepped forward. “We can still expose Valiant.”

The prince glared at him. Clearly, he was incapable of understanding exactly the position their failed attempt had put him in. “I no longer require your services,” he said.

“You’re sacking me?”

“I need a servant I can trust.”

“You can trust me!”

“And look where it got me this time,” Arthur snapped, heading for the door. “I don’t want to see you again.”

* * *

Isabene woke slowly, struggling to take in her surroundings. She was in Gaius’s rooms, but hadn’t she left? Where had she been when she’d fallen asleep? In front of the court, she thought. She had needed to tell Arthur about….

The snake.

She jumped off of the cot and nearly collapsed on the spot, but Gaius was there to catch her. “Be careful, your highness.” 

“Ewan was killed by the snake, I needed to let Arthur know—”

“You did,” Gaius assured her, trying to sit her back down on the cot, “and gave the court quite a scare.”

Isabene shrugged him off. “What happened with Valiant?”

“Without a witness, the King ruled that there was insufficient proof,” the physician admitted. “Valiant apparently accused Arthur of fabricating the claim in order to get out of the final bout. Arthur didn’t take it well.”

No, she couldn’t imagine he would. And if Uther had believed Valiant, coming to him now with the knowledge she had about the snake would only be played off as her own concern for Arthur’s abilities. “And Merlin?”

“In his room.”

Isabene knocked on the door to the backroom and slowly pushed the door open. Merlin was sitting on his bed with his magic book open in his lap, staring blankly at a statue of a dog in the corner of the room. She stepped in and closed the door behind her.

“Arthur sacked me,” Merlin said, breaking the silence. “So much for parts of a whole.”

“You spoke to the dragon?” Isabene guessed.

“He hates me, Isabene. It’s not just a matter of thinking me incompetent anymore, he  _ hates _ me. He doesn’t care if  _ one cannot truly hate that which makes him whole _ . I’m supposed to protect him with no training, no job, and no idea what I’m supposed to be doing.” He sighed. “I don’t suppose the protector of my destiny has any advice?”

She didn’t. 

As much as Isabene hated the thought of Arthur fighting Valiant and his cursed shield, she knew full well what convincing Arthur to withdraw would do to him. Arthur was a prince,  _ the  _ prince. His reputation with his father and the knights was everything and he could never risk looking weak. “We have to have faith in Arthur’s abilities,” she said. “And do everything we can to help him from the sidelines.”

“Can you talk to him?” Merlin asked quietly. “Please?”

“I’ll try,” she promised and left, closing the door behind her.

Gaius didn’t say anything to her as she left. It was dark outside, it had taken the entire day for her to wake up. She wandered the castle looking for some sign of where the Prince was hiding and eventually found Arthur outside at the foot of the stairs, his shield on the ground and his sword in hand. “Don’t you think it would work a little better sparring against someone?” she asked.

Arthur spun around. “You’re awake!”

“Alive, awake, and alert.” Isabene sat down on the stairs. “Are you prepared for tomorrow?”

The prince frowned. “Are you going to try to convince me to back out?”

“I’m not expecting it to work,” she admitted. “And I understand why you won’t, but Arthur if you lose he  _ will _ kill you.”

“I’d rather lose my life than my people’s respect.”

“And what about me?” Isabene demanded. “What if I don’t want to lose you? You and Morgana are all the family I have left!” 

Arthur didn’t respond for a few moments, choosing simply to avoid her eyes by looking down at his boots. It reminded her of all the times the two of them had been scolded for getting into trouble when they were younger. It was always the two of them, side by side, looking down ashamedly at the ground when they’d been caught stealing food or sparring in the halls or trying to hide Morgana’s things in the library.

“I’m sorry,” he said eventually. “I have to do this. It is my duty.”

“Then swear to me you’re going to win. I don’t care how good he is or what kind of an advantage he has. Promise me that you  _ will not lose _ .”

Arthur swallowed hard. “I promise.” Isabene stood from her stop on the stairs and headed back towards the castle. “Isabene, wait.” 

She stopped walking.

“You knew this already,” he said. “You knew I wouldn’t back down. Did  _ he _ send you to talk to me?”

“He did.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t save you from that witch out of loyalty to Camelot, Arthur.”

Arthur snorted. “Well, he certainly didn’t do it out of fondness for me, either.”

“No? You may be a royal prat, but even Merlin knows that you don’t deserve to die. He has faith in the person you will one day become. And so do I.”

* * *

Isabene found Morgana hovering outside the door to Arthur’s rooms the next morning. “Waiting to jump out and scare him when he leaves?”

Morgana jumped when she spoke. 

Isabene frowned, concerned. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I’m just… concerned,” she said. “I…”

“What?”

Morgana refused to meet her eyes. “It’s nothing. I just wanted to wish him luck.”

Something about her tone and shaken expression had Isabene convinced that Morgana was lying but before she could press further, Morgana inclined her head towards the door, gesturing that they should go in and speak to Arthur. 

Morris was the one helping the prince prepare. Isabene was quite frankly surprised to see the boy, having assumed that he wouldn’t want to return to his previous post once given an out. Morgana cut in and dismissed the servant. “Let me.” She fixed a strap and tightened his vambrace. “I used to help my father with his armor.”

Isabene handed him his helmet, the strip of green cloth tucked inside. “Here.”

“Thank you both.” Arthur turned to leave.

“Arthur,” Morgana called after him, “be careful.”

He nodded. “I’ll see you two at the feast.”

If Gwen noticed that the two women were distracted when they took their seats in the stands, she didn’t say anything. The cheers of the crowd were deafening and Isabene’s stomach was tying itself in knots. No one knew what they were really here to watch, she mused as Arthur and Valiant took their places, a fight to the death. She watched the battle intently, unable to look away.

Both knights fought hard and every clash of swords caused the princess to wince. Arthur knocked Valiant’s helmet to the ground, which the knight repaid by whacking Arthur upside the chin with his shield. The prince fell backward, pinned to the ground by Valiant’s boot on his shield and only barely managing to roll out of the way of a strike. Valiant disarmed Arthur and threw him against the wall of the arena.

That was when Isabene noticed Merlin watching. She leaned forward. ‘ _ Merlin, what are you doing?  _ ’ 

Merlin just looked up at her and winked before turning his attention back to the fight. Arthur shoved Valiant off and Merlin locked his gaze on Valiant’s shield, muttering something under his breath.

Isabene’s whipped around to see if Uther had noticed and nearly sighed in relief when she realized that the King’s attention on the living snakes protruding from Valiant’s shield. “He  _ is _ using magic,” Uther said. 

Isabene’s hands curled into fists. She gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to strangle the man for the shock in his voice.

“And now they see you for what you really are,” Arthur declared.

Valiant chuckled and Isabene’s stomach dropped as he sent the snakes to the ground and shouted, “Kill him!”

Arthur backed up toward the stands. Isabene looked around and nudged Morgana, pointing to the guard nearby. Morgana grabbed a knight’s sword from its sheath. “Arthur!” she shouted and tossed him the weapon. 

He caught it and beheaded the snakes in a single swing. Arthur disarmed the other knight and ran him through. Valiant dropped and the crowd burst into cheers. Isabene fell back into her seat, beaming with relief.  Next time, she promised herself, she’d be right in the thick of things with Merlin. No more sitting on the sidelines, her heart wouldn’t be able to handle that again.

Isabene didn’t see Arthur or Merlin until the feast that night. Merlin found her in the crowd before Arthur could be announced. “You were right,” he admitted.

“I’m always right,” Isabene said. “What exactly are you referring to?”

“I never thought about how much pressure Arthur’s under to be the perfect prince. It’s not as much pressure as having to keep his dumb arse alive, though.”

“You did good today, Merlin.”

“Good enough that you’ll agree to teach me that mind talking trick?”

Isabene laughed. “Eventually. You have to let me keep some secrets.”

The King clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention and Merlin drifted off to speak to Gaius. “My honorable guests,” Uther announced, “I give you Prince Arthur, your champion!”

Isabene waited until after Arthur was done bickering with Morgana and antagonizing Merlin to approach him. “Pretty fantastic way to end the tournament. I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

“I know,” Arthur said with a grin.

Isabene rolled her eyes. “Just for that, I’m going to beat you when we spar tomorrow.”

He smirked at her. “I don’t know if anyone’s told you, Isabene, but sparring isn’t how you properly court a prince. You know, since we’re going to be married and all.”

She gaped at him as he offered her the strip of Deiran green cloth that had been her favor, now tightly woven with a strip that was Camelot red. Isabene narrowed her eyes at Arthur when she took the gift and proceeded to smack him with it repeatedly as he retreated, laughing the entire time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is Valiant’s fucking motivation? Was his goal to actually kill Arthur? Or just to win the tournament? And what then? What was he going to do if he actually beat Arthur and Arthur wasn’t killed by the snake venom? Stick around? Wouldn’t someone figure out that his shield was magical eventually? Why did he even enter? He wasn’t a sorcerer, so what possessed him to enter a tournament in Camelot with a magic cheating shield? I want answers.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream with me on [Tumblr](https://dreamhunter-trash.tumblr.com/)! And don't forget the [camelot crew ask blog](https://askthecamelotcrew.tumblr.com/) is open for canon era questions as well!


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